Day 4

1.

I stumbled across a funeral
One snowy April evening
High in the clawed branches of a lilac tree
Waited the wedding party, soberly dressed and silent
The cocks wore ebony suits, dusky cravats
The hens in obsidian dress and onyx pearls
Some rubbed beaks on branches as breakable as bone
A rustle, the sound of trees weeping
or a thousand wings lifting skyward.
Loved ones waited in line to offer the deceased
twigs of lilac, held in beaks
As though to furnish him a Heaven of flowers.
He died like this:
Sprawled at the base of the tree, beak open
Tongue dry as gray leather
Mites on exposed skin and feather
One foot clasped around a final thought
I stood and watched
Until they lofted up as one organism;
crisp and dignified, like scattered leaves.
Then I walked home under the streelights
Climbed into bed, kissed her forehead
and lay awake all night.